Date: Sun, 13 Oct 2013 07:02:46 +0100
From: Philip Clipstone
Subject: In the Stables- Part 2
Thanks for all your feedback. Here is chapter two. Please let me know what
you think by emailing me. There probably will be 2-3 more chapters. Again
everything is fictional and has no relation to re-life. This is all a
fantasy.
Happing wanking,
Phillip
----------- 2 -----------
Michael looked into his eyes to see if there was doubt. He couldn't see
any. Steve was telling the truth, he was giving himself completely to
Michael. At that moment, Michael realised how much he needed Steve, and
Steve realised how much he needed Michael.
Michael picked up the piss-wet shirt and made it into a ball, the piss
mixing with the sweat dripping out. Steve intuitively opened his mouth
receiving the offering.
With the salty bitter taste of piss sloshing around his mouth, Steve saw a
smile of approval flash across Michael's face. This was the first time he
had won Michael's approval. This was the first time he had ever spoken to
Michael in complete sentences. In complete submissive sentences. Balance
had been restored. Steve had been trying to treat Michael as an equal, but
that is not what they were. Steve realised this now. He was a submissive. A
slave. An object for a better man. For the first time Steve felt happy.
Michael pushed the cloth into Steve's mouth and then flipped him 180. He
pushed Steve's back down, "grab your ankles boy." Steve did so, exposing
his perfectly taunt pink hole. A bushy brown wiry hair surrounded it,
teasing Michael, begging him to jam his 10 inch cock into the warmth and
promise of the inside. But he resisted. Steve would have to earn those 10
precious inches. Michael regained control and spitting on the hole, ran his
fingers up and down the hole, testing the elasticity of the entrance. He
was tight, Michael thought, I have to go in!
Steve moaned as Michael played with his hole. Then it stopped. "Come here
boy." Steve turned around and found Michael unbuckling his thick leather
belt. Steve knew what was coming. "Stand here," Michael said pointing to
the anvil, "rest your hands on the corners, spread your legs. That's
right. Keep your shirt in your mouth, this is going to hurt."
Steve had just got into position, leaning on the anvil, when the first slap
went across his arse. There was no build up; it was just hard and
harsh. The leather belt bursted across his buttocks. His arse burned as the
pain rushed through his body, but before it could readjust another sharp
slap. Harder than the first. Steve flinched and moaned. Another 5
consecutive beltings, each more intense than the previous one. There were
only a few seconds between each beat and Steve's eyes began to water at the
pain. The sound of the leather on his flesh echoed around the
stables. Steve's cock was bulging against his jockstrap and he longed to
play with it. He bit harder into the piss soaked shirt, swallowing the
dripplets of piss.
"Keep your fucking arse out," Michael hissed.
Steve flinched when the beating started again, but Michael wasn't having
any of it and he pulled Steve's head up. "Hold still boy. Keep your head up
and arse out. I don't like to repeat myself" Steve did as he was told and
the leather struck him 10 more times. Each hit pushed him forward, but
Michael quickly pulled him back. After the fourth stroke, Steve had shifted
his weight so that he didn't flinch forward at every strike. This made the
pain even more intense. His legs were shaking now, tears welling in his
eyes. The strokes continues. Then it finally stopped.
The pain filled his body and pumped blood into his cock. He kept leaning
over the anvil, his legs quivering when suddenly he felt Michael's
presence. Their heads were next to each other. Steve kept his head forward
and Michael whispered into his ear, "You asked for this boy. We're just
getting warmed up. Stay there."
His arse felt like it was on fire, as he saw Michael go into a small room
and come back with a box. "Aren't you a pretty sight?" he said as he wiped
a tear from Steve's eye. Michael opened the box just out of Steve's view,
but Steve could nonetheless see the glimmer of blacksmith's tools. Then he
smelt the pungent smell of leather, and Michael picked up a riding
crop. Steve gulped.
Michael went behind Steve and pulled him up by the hair. "Hands behind your
head, legs apart!" Michael barked. Steve complied. "I think we're done with
this." He ripped the torn shirt from Steve's mouth.
Michael looked at Steve's muscular body, gleaning with sweat. His arse
bright red from the whipping. He ran his fingers down Steve's torso and
felt the muscles beneath the thin layer of hair. When he came to the
nipples he gave them a pinch, Steve looked down. Michael slapped him across
the face. "Head up. Always." Michael tweaked the nipples once more and
Steve grimaced. Michael could see that Steve's cock was rock hard under the
jockstrap. He pulled out his switchblade once more and looking straight
into Steve's eyes he cut the strap and Steve's dick and balls plopped
out. His dick straight ahead.
"I like a fag with a fat cock. Gives me something to play with." With that,
Michael slapped the cock several times with the riding crop and pulled the
scrotum. Steve whimpered.
This time he slapped the balls. Gently at first, but the second time was
harder. Then harder still. Steve couldn't help but recoil at each
blow. "Stand still faggot!" Steve's hand twitched above his head, fighting
the urge to protect his jewels. Bang! Down went the hand onto his
balls. Bang! Thump! Five more times and then just when Steve thought it had
ended Michael flicked his balls with his fingers. Steve nearly fell back at
the short sharp pain, but he quickly regained his posture: hands on head,
body straight up, head straight ahead.
"What do you say?" Michael asked. "Thank you Master." "For what?" "For
allowing me to please you." Steve didn't know where that answer came
from. Michael seemed pleased and went out of Steve's view.
For a moment Steve could reflect on the pain. The pain in Steve's balls
mixed with the forgotten pain from his arse and the burning pulsated
through his body. He stood there processing the pain, breathing calmly. He
was trying to regain his sense of self — his sense of his slavery. He
was transforming from a person into a slave. He soon realised this was no
longer his body; like squatters finding an abandoned mansion, he had taken
over this body. But now came his punishment. The master of the body had
come to reclaim his property. He belonged to Michael. A tear fell onto his
lips and he cheekily stuck his tongue to taste his pain. Delicious.
Suddenly he felt a intense pain on his right nipple. Then on his left. He
heard the sound of the riding crop as it slapped between right and left
nipple. Then suddenly his cock felt the sharp pain. Back to his
nipples. Steve was back in the land of pain. A smile beamed across his face
as the hits intensified. Then the leather strap went onto his toned abs. He
could feel the red burning through his body. Then Michael switched to
Steve's backside. His arse became once more a canvass of pain. It went on
for a good five minutes. Every stroke adding to the pain of the previous
one. Steve started to yelp with each kiss of the riding crop and this only
edged Michael on further.
Michael was loving it. He loved how Steve's body twitched in the early
evening light. The sounds Steve was making, those short squeals, only added
to Michael's pleasure, egging him on to hit harder. Finally after a good
ten minutes of whipping the boy, both were covered in sweet.
Steve's body glistened, his sweat amplifying the redness underneath.
Steve watched as Michael caught his breath. The sweat was beading off
Michael now, and he decided to take off his shirt. Steve had seen Michael
shirtless before, but never like this. His tight shirt came off revealing a
hefty hairy body. His nipples were perfect nips buried under a thick coat
of black hair. On his right arm there was a thin tattoo that encircled his
bulging biceps. Steve's cock responded to this gorgeous hunk in front of
him, and Michael saw the reaction as well. He picked up the riding crop
came over and quickly lifted it over his head and with all his force flung
the leather strap onto Steve's cock head. Steve hardly had time to
react. He screeched and Michael laughed. He lifted up his hand once more,
and Steve flinched but soon regained himself. Michael lowered his arm but
just before he hit the cock he stopped. Steve had already tensed in
preparation of the pain, but it didn't come. He relaxed and once Michael
saw this he kneed Steve in the balls.
This took Steve by complete surprise and he fell forward, his hands still
above resting on his head.
"Up we go." Michael pulled Steve back up straight and quickly stuck a
clothes peg on Steve's nipples. He must have had the pegs in his pocket,
because Steve hadn't seen him pick them up. Before he could think there was
another sharp pain and another clothes peg was on his other nipple. Then
the riding crop reappeared and slapped him across the cock once more, this
time twice as hard as before.
"What do you say?"
Steve's sweat was dripping into his mouth but he managed to squeak out,
"thank you sir."
"What's that boy? You want another?"
Another slap across the cock.
"Thank you sir. May I please have another?"
Michael held Steve's balls and pulled on them, with his other hand he
teased Steve's cock with the riding crop. A light slap, a harder one and
then when Steve was expecting another slap, a sharp slap across his
balls. "Thank you sir." Steve was almost crying from the pain.
Michael was rock hard watching the boy squirm under his control. This is
what he wanted, Michael thought. Let him have it then. This is what I need;
let me give it.
Michael put down the riding crop and looked at the whimpering boy -- his
body a collection of red streaks. Michael liked the look. He started to
stroke his cock. Suddenly he had the urge to piss again.
"Bend over on the anvil."
Steve did so without question. Michael went over and stuck his fingers into
Steve's arse. His fingers felt around the tight warm wet hole, then in a
second he shoved his cock inside Steve. Steve yelped. "That was only the
head boy."
His cock felt good in the tight hole. Steve's arse gripped Michael's cock
and he gently pushed the shaft in deeper. "God you feel good boy." He
pulled out a little, spat on his cock and popped it back in. Steve moaned.
Steve loved the feel of the cock inside his arse, after the first blast of
pain ended pleasure took over. But the fast and furious humping he had been
hoping for didn't happen. Michael stopped pumping and suddenly Steve felt
his gut filling.
"Oh shit…. yeah." Michael was pissing up Steve's arse. "Take it bitch."
Michael pulled Steve closer onto his dick, pushing his piss a bit deeper up
inside Steve. Then as soon as it began Michael pulled his pole out and as
quickly as that happened he shoved a butt plug up Steve's arse. "Keep it in
there," he said with a light spank on Steve's redden bum. Steve squirmed as
he could feel the hot piss trying to fight its way out, but he could do
nothing.
Michael picked up his belt and gave Steve several hard slaps across his
arse. Steve felt every blow slosh the piss around his bowels. He moaned as
he received the beatings.
"Come here and clean my cock." Michael was sitting now and Steve awkwardly
flipped himself around to come face to face with Michael. Michael eyes
reflected the sadistic pleasure he was getting from using this boy, and
Steve could read power in those eyes. He dropped to the floor and cleaned
the cock that had pissed in him. He could taste his arse on the fat head
and down the shaft. Steve's dick was weeping.
"After every fuck, boy, you are to clean my cock. Is that clear?"
Steve nodded, Michael's cock shoved inside his lips.
"Make me cum boy. No hands." Michael tilted his head and body back and let
Steve use his tongue and mouth. The wetness and warmth of the mouth was as
pleasing as the arse was. He closed his eyes and let the pleasure take hold
of his body. That's what this fag was for, to please him. He was there just
as an instrument of Michael's pleasure. Suddenly the sucking which had been
going at full force was jolty. It felt repetitive, Michael looked down to
see Steve, resting on one arm, his other arm used to stroke his worthless
fag cock..
Immediately Michael withdrew his cock, and Steve, knowing he had done
something wrong, untouched his dick.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Michael yelled.
Steve averted his gaze. "Look at me faggot when I'm talking to you."
Steve looked up, his heart pounding. "Did I say you could play with your
pathetic cock?" "No sir."
"And there you are playing with your cock."
"Forgive me sir."
"Do you want to please yourself or me boy?"
"You sir."
"Well, it looks like you wanted to please yourself?"
Steve instinctively went towards the fat cock, semi-errect, dangling in
front of him; his mouth a willing vessel. Michael would have none of it. A
sharp slap fell across Steve's checks. Then another. Michael pulled up
Steve by his hair, silently, sadistically, he hissed, "We are going to have
to punish you, fag."